


The Blue Suite

by KtwoNtwo



Series: The Emperor's Edge Collection [8]
Category: The Emperor's Edge Series - Lindsay Buroker
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-19 18:44:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1480078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KtwoNtwo/pseuds/KtwoNtwo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Emperor's Edge is a specialized group of mercenaries who work in secret directly for the Emperor.  Of course, such secret status can have direct and some times disastrous consequences.  This is a tale of the aftermath of such a mission gone bad.  An AU where Sespian becomes Emperor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Nightmare Visitation

**Author's Note:**

> Previously published on the Emperor's Edge Forum as three stories (Blue Suite, Of Bedrooms & Bathtubs and Bathtub Musings). The rating only applies to the last chapter, its T up until that point. AU for the series since it was written just after the issuance of the 2nd book.
> 
> The characters and all the rights thereto belong to Lindsay Buroker. I’m just borrowing them to play around with for my own amusement. If you haven't read the series stop right now and go do so. You have no excuse since the first book is free and Ms. Buroker writes much better than I do!

“Mancrest” he said from the shadows and watched as Deret Mancrest started violently enough to knock a pile of papers off the corner of his desk. It was understandable that Mancrest would be startled considering that his apartment was on the 6th floor, the doors were locked and it was well past midnight.

“Ancesestor’s nuts Sicarius!” Mancrest snarled “One of these days you are going to cause someone to expire of a seizure just by showing up like that.”

“Improbable” he replied.

“So what do you want?” Mancrest asked irritably. “I’m assuming, since I’m not dead, that you are interested in something other than the pleasure of my company.” His voice was heavy with sarcasm.

“You have an interview with the Emperor tomorrow.” The statement came out sounding vaguely angry to his ears and not at all like a question. He’d have to get a better grip on himself and his emotions.

“Yes.” Mancrest sat very still. He’d caught the hint of anger in Sicarius’ tone and was not sure what it implied or where it was directed. When you have a potentially angry assassin in your office the prudent course of action is not to agitate him further by doing anything that could be potentially interpreted as a threat, such as making extraneous movements. Mancrest was not stupid.

“I need you to relay a message for me to the Emperor”. That came out better.

“I’m not going to be able to smuggle something to the Emperor without it being read you know.” Mancrest replied almost conversationally relaxing a slightly. “Besides, don’t you have better methods of getting a note to the Emperor than giving it to me?”

Humph. Mancrest had miss-understood his intent. He tried again “It’s not written.”

“Oh” Mancrest was looking interested and relaxed a little more, “So what am I to tell the Emperor?” There was just a hint of sarcasm still in his voice.

Sicarius took a deep breath. Blast. That breath was probably audible to Mancrest. This was harder than he’d expected. “Amaranthe was killed by a Nurian hit squad earlier this evening. I am going after them,” he stated flatly, paused then added “and those who ordered it.”

“What?!” Mancrest shot to his feet sending papers flying and almost falling over when his crippled leg buckled with the sudden movement. He caught himself by grabbing the edge of the desk, knocking more papers off in the process. “What happened?” he snapped, glaring at Sicarius.

Sicarius glared back. Admitting failure wasn’t easy for one of his nature, especially this failure. However he could imagine Amaranthe’s gentle chiding, _Its polite to answer questions no matter how forcefully expressed….beside Sespian deserves to know_. Another potentially audible deep breath. Get control. Just report. “They sent three practitioners and six blades. Neither Akstyr nor I could get to the third practitioner in time.” He closed his eyes momentarily remembering, relying on his ears to warn him if Mancrest moved again. Then he continued, “They also had another ten blades on the outside. Maldynado killed three of those and injured two more fighting his way in, I took care of the rest. The practitioner and one of the blades managed to elude me.” He should have been faster. He should have expected it, planned for something like…control, breathe, lock it down.

He opened his eyes. Mancrest was glaring at him with a strange look on his face. It was probably the amount as well as the nature of the information he’d just imparted. He’d spoken more words to Mancrest in the last few minutes than he had in the last year. Mancrest was gripping the table edge hard with both hands. Mancrest’s body language indicated that he wanted to throw it, or break it. “Other casualties?” he snarled at Sicarius.

“Possibly Akstyr. I was moving too fast to determine conclusively.” The explanation popped out. Sicarius had forgotten that Mancrest had commanded infantry before his injury. Watch it. Get control. Too much emotion and you start to react before you think.

“Are you sure?” Mancrest was clearly back to focusing on Amaranthe.

“I recognized what the practitioner threw at her. A death spell. Felt the power he put behind it. It wasn’t survivable.” It came out sounding angry again. Damn. Channel it. Control. Breathe. He had to get a hold of himself, stop blurting things out like that. It was his equivalent of Amaranthe’s burbling he realized.

Mancrest grimaced at that. “Where did this all happen?” he asked.

Once again he could imagine Amaranth’s voice _Tell him_. “Abandoned textile warehouse next to the cemetery on the north side.”

Mancrest looked Sicarius straight in the eyes. “I’ll tell the Emperor but do me a favor will you?” Mancrest paused “Take an extra chunk out of the bastard that ordered this for me.”

He nodded with a short sharp jerk of his head, turned and left.


	2. A Report to the Emperor

Three days later Sicarius was crouched on a beam in the crawl space next to the audience chamber in the new wing of the Imperial Barracks. _New_ being a relative term since most of the rest of the complex was over 200 years old and this wing was only 50. The crawl space was not part of the original design. It was the result of a flaw that only became apparent after the building had been completed. The Emperor’s audience chamber had a semi-secret hallway that ran down one side of the room with strategically placed concealed doors to allow extra troops access to the chamber if necessary. It originally had a ceiling that was as tall as that in the audience chamber itself but once built it was discovered that the noise of troops in the _secret_ hallway would echo into the chamber. The builders came up with a rather clever solution by installing a dropped ceiling to muffle any noise that rapid troop deployment might make. This left a crawl space some four foot high between the dropped ceiling and the roof as an ideal hiding place for an assassin or spy. Sicarius had known about it for years but he doubted that anyone else still living did.

Today was monthly audience day where members of the warrior cast could present their petitions directly to the Emperor. Historically some Emperors had held these sessions weekly, some annually while a few had dispensed with them all together. Sespian had apparently decided that a monthly schedule was all the official whining and complaining of the nobility that he was willing to put up with. Sicarius could tell that the griping was still going full force as the acoustics in the crawl space were excellent. He ignored the specifics, listening as he’d been taught long ago for the tone and cadence of the conversation. Good. They’d be going for a while yet.

Carefully he started disarming and hiding his equipment in several different places in the crawl space. Finally, he was down to his least obvious weapons. Two throwing blades in hidden arm sheathes, a garrote sewn into his shirt collar, flat blade hidden in the back of his belt, belt buckle that doubled as a throwing star, right boot hold out blade, the lock picks in the cuff of left boot and of course the black dagger. The latter he would take in a sheath, separate from the rest of his armament. That was crucial. It must appear that the dagger was his only weapon, even if it wasn’t. Then he settled in to wait.

He’d been a bit surprised at how easy it had been to get onto the Imperial Barracks grounds early this morning. For some reason the guard’s patrol pattern had been slightly off. Not badly off, but just enough to create a small window of time every two to three hours or so where someone, if they were fast, could get over the wall and into the Barracks proper. If he survived the next hour or so he’d have to figure out how to let the guard commander know surreptitiously. It wouldn’t do to leave that type of hole in Sespian’s security especially since there were at least five other people in the world that he knew for certain could exploit such a gap.

The audience was starting to wind down. Sicarius moved to listen at one of the tiles that formed the dropped ceiling. Ah, there it was, the sound of the boots of the normal patrol that ran through the hall every ten minutes or so while the Emperor was in the audience chamber. The sounds faded and he lifted the tile out of place creating a man-sized access hole. With an economy of movement he swung down into the hall pulling the tile back into its place in the ceiling. Silently he moved to one of the concealed doors into the audience chamber and slipped through.

He’d timed it perfectly. The last audience of the day was just finishing up. The imperial scribe would then make the traditional call for any additional petitions. He would make this call three times and then the audience day would be over. While the provision of an opportunity to make an unscheduled petition was traditional, actually having one made was not. In fact, under Raumesys it had only happened three times. The first two petitioner’s had been summarily executed on the spot by the imperial guard after their petitions had been denied. The other one; well, that had resulted in an assignment for Sicarius. History of that nature tended to discourage impromptu petitions and Sespian had yet to have one in his reign as Emperor.

“Let anyone who would petition the Emperor step forward” the scribe called loudly to be heard over the conversations of the warrior cast nobles who were discussing a wide variety of things completely unrelated to any of the petitions heard that day. “Let anyone who would petition….urrk.” The scribe choked on the rest when he spotted Sicarius striding to the center of the hall. The conversations petered to a halt as the nobles reacted to the scribe’s aborted call. Sicarius stopped in the middle of the hall and stood motionless. His dramatic entrance was further emphasized by a distinct movement toward the walls by the nobility as they realized exactly who was standing in their midst. The imperial guard was relatively quick on the uptake. By the time the scribe had managed to shut his mouth on his aborted call for petitions and the nobility had just started to move, every guard in the room with a crossbow or musket had it pointed directly at Sicarius. Those that didn’t have a ranged weapon were also drawing swords and moving to put their bodies directly between him and the Emperor.

Before most of the swords were fully drawn, Sespian threw up one hand and said “Hold!” in a tone of voice reminiscent of Raumesys, his predecessor. Everyone stopped moving, even the nobility. “Let him approach” Sespian continued using tones that clearly conveyed _I’m the Emperor and you’d better listen or else_. The Captain of Sespian’s guard made an abortive twitch. Sespian glared at him and the guard captain subsided, a look of acute displeasure on his face.

Interesting. Sicarius started moving. He walked silently and carefully toward the dais. No movements that could be interpreted as offensive. The guards were jumpy enough already. This was the most dangerous part of what he had planned. He stopped when he got to the desk of the scribe which was slightly off center on the floor before the dais. Slowly he handed the sheathed black dagger to the scribe and said in his normal flat monotone “Give that to the Emperor.” The scribe was pale and shaking as he took the dagger but he stood and did as asked while Sicarius moved to the edge of the dais directly in front of the Emperor.

Sespian accepted the dagger from the scribe, looked at it, then looked at Sicarius clearly puzzled by both the knife and his intent. Sespian was well aware that he, and the rest of the team, worked best from the shadows without public fanfare or knowledge. In fact, Sespian had set it up that way with Amaranthe. The fact that he was here, in such a public place where his appearance and actions would be known all over Stumps in less than an hour should tip Sespian off that something was even more amiss than the obvious fact that a rather large Nurian hit squad had acted relatively unopposed in the capital.

Sicarius went down on one knee, head bowed. “I did what I said I would do.” Let the nobles wonder, he thought. It was time for them to realize that Sespian had more tools than just the imperial guard, the intelligence service and the enforcers. Hopefully it would also flush out the remaining Nurian contacts and supporters among the warrior cast.

“I know.” Sespian replied still using his _I’m the Emperor_ voice then more softly, “and what am I supposed to do with this?”

“Whatever you want” Sicarius said flatly.

The room was silent save for the vague rustling of the nobles as they shifted nervously. Suddenly, a door scraped as it opened at the side of the dais and a servant stood hesitantly in the doorway. Sespian looked over, then beckoned him to approach. Sicarius watched from one knee, still with head bowed. The servent whispered something to Sespian who looked, for a fleeting moment, pleased. Sespian waived the servant off and returned his attention to Sicarius.

“I don’t have time right now for this” Sespian said, again using his _I’m the Emperor_ voice, while motioning for Sicarius to rise.

Sicarius rose to his feet as requested.

Sespian stared at him for a moment as if deciding something. “Third floor, west office” Sespian ordered. At the same time Sespian’s hand moved in the familiar pattern of Basilard’s modified hunting code. _Go, talk later_ , he signed. Sicarius acknowledged both the order and the hand signs by nodding his head in a short, almost imperceptible motion.

The guard Captain looked quickly at Sespian, confused as to whether the order was a directive to him, Sicarius or both. Sespian resolved the issue by ordering “Provide him an escort Captain.”

Sicarius gave Sespian a glare. Didn’t he trust him to get to the third floor all by himself? No, there was a fleeting glimpse of emotion on Sespian’s face in response to that glare. There was something else going on? A bit of political theater perhaps? Showing the nobility that he had his newly revealed assassin on a tight leash? No, that didn’t fit either.

In response to Sespian’s order the Guard Captain and four soldiers formed up around Sicarius. With a quick head jerk that Secarius interpreted as get moving the Guard Captain started for one of the side doors, clearly expecting him to follow. With a quick glance as Sespian using his peripheral vision, Secarius again complied.


	3. Awakening

Amaranthe was awakened by an unintelligible whispered conversation which seemed to be occurring somewhere off to her left. She was lying on, or more accurately sinking into, what felt like an obscenely soft feather bed. This was a good thing since she felt as if she’d been beaten black and blue over every inch of her body and her eyelids were so heavy she didn’t know if she had the strength to open them. How did she get here? She remembered seeing a flash of emotion, maybe anguish, on Sicarius’ normally unreadable face just before something hit her in the back of the head and the world exploded into pain and blackness. Her memories were rather fragmented after that. She recalled hearing Akstyr’s voice calling her from a distance. There was a bit of Maldynado arguing with a voice she felt she should recognize but couldn’t quite place. Basilard wrapping her up in a blanket and carrying her as if she were a child. The bounce and sway of some sort of vehicle. Books supporting her and helping her drink something.

Opening her eyes took much more effort than she’d expected. What she saw made no real sense. The room was dimly lit by a lamp and an open doorway. She could see it was furnished with ornate furniture. The ceiling seemed to be too far away and had plaster ornamentation all around its edges. Where was she? Had Maldynado commandeered a room in an upscale brothel for her to recuperate? If so, the only thing missing was a mirror above the bed.

She looked left and could see Akstyr, Maldynado, Basilard and Books standing outside the lighted doorway discussing something in whispers. Most likely they were trying not to wake her. Humph. If it was important enough to argue over it should be important enough to wake her. Annoyance gave her a bit of energy and she attempted to say something but all that came out was a strangled croak. It had the desired effect however; all four men stopped whispering and peered into the darkened room at her.

What happened next could have been right out of some low brow theatrical farce as all four of them attempted to get through the doorway at the same time.

“Move it” said Akstyr as he attempted to squeeze past Basilard.

“Get your hairy elbow out of my stomach” Maldynado complained when Books shoved an arm in front of him. “Hey, stop holding me back” he added a second later.

“If you weren’t such a popinjay and insisting on wearing a sword indoors I wouldn’t have my sleeve caught in your hilt impeding your progress” Books snapped back.

Basilard made a gesture that, due to the lighting, Amaranthe couldn’t quite see, but given the instantaneous “You wish” response from both Akstyr and Maldynado, it had probably been rude.

Basilard, due to his smaller size and greater strength, managed to get to her first. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders, propped her up and Maldynado thrust a cup full of something he had just poured from a pitcher on the bedside table at her. Books fiddled with a lamp and the room got brighter while Akstyr just stood at the end of the bed looking at her and grinning like an idiot.

Amaranthe managed to get her hands up to take the cup even though they felt like they were weighted with lead. At that point she noticed she was wearing an oversized shirt. It was too small to be Maldynado’s and she didn’t think any of the others owned a silk shirt of this quality. Puzzling. She managed to get both hands on the cup despite the fact that her arms were shaking badly and even managed to drink some without spilling. It was some sort of fruit juice. All four of the men looked inordinately pleased, like she’d just done something spectacular such as multiple back flips.

“Hey boss,” Maldynado asked “how are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been pounded all over” she replied then added “Where’s Sicarius?”

The men exchanged glances. Uh oh. That’s not good, she thought. “Uh…” Amaranthe started just as Books said “Out”, Maldynado said “Gone”, Akstyr mumbled “I don’t know”, and Basilard signed one handed “Hunting.” They all looked somewhat embarrassed. Ok, that was informative. Time to take another drink of the juice and change the subject.

“By the way, where are we? This room looks like a brothel.” Once again an exchange of glances. Another strange reaction so she added teasingly “Only Maldynado would think that a whore-house is the proper place to recover from a battle.” The glances were replaced by a set of uniformly shocked looks.

A sudden bark of laughter came from the doorway. Everyone else in the room stiffened as Emperor Sespian entered chuckling. He waived his had in an as you were motion before anyone could do anything else and said “Given the outrageous nature of the décor in these rooms I can understand being confused.”

Amaranthe just stared at him, her mouth dropping open. Sespian continued “You are actually in the private guest quarters in the Imperial Barracks and I can’t think of a better place to recover from a battle. No one will look for any of you here. They wouldn’t dare. Think of it as an employment perk”

That was it. She must be hallucinating. She couldn’t be in a bed, in the Imperial Barracks wearing nothing much but…her befuddled brain put two and two together…the Emperor’s shirt! She closed her mouth. It was just too bizarre, even for her. The room seemed to be spinning. It didn’t help that the light appeared to be dimming as well. Someone took the cup from her hands. Basilard removed his arm from her shoulders and laid her back flat on the bed. “Go ahead and sleep Amaranthe” Sespian’s voice said seemingly from far away, “I’ll keep all of them safe for you.” She was just awake enough to wonder if she had imagined a slight emphasis on the “all” when sleep took her.


	4. Waiting

Sicarius walked down the third floor hallway of the Imperial Barracks. Even though he knew the way he continued following the Guard Captain, flanked by two guards with another two carrying cocked and loaded repeating crossbows a short distance behind. The guards were careful to stay just far enough away that he’d have to stretch to reach them and the Guard Captain, some five paces ahead and slightly to the side, was indicating where to turn with short nods of his head. No one spoke.

Sicarius was well aware that the third floor west office was actually holding area consisting of two adjoining rooms. One was an office with a desk and several chairs while the other a cell with bars between it and the office. It had been used for a variety of purposes over the years but the last time he had been in the room it had been fitted out as a place where accused nobility could be held for short periods prior to being transferred to other quarters or to the dungeon. It was also, Sicarius remembered, not one of the three rooms in the Imperial Barracks that had been specifically designed to hold him, or someone like him.

The group entered the office. The Guard Captain opened the cell door and motioned him in with his head. If he’d wanted to escape easily this would be the time to do it. Grab the Captain and toss him into the crossbow men then kill the other two guards before eliminating the Captain and crossbow wielders. From there it would be into the attic or out the office window and up to the roof. There were a couple of places he could hole up and wait for an opportunity to get out unseen. Of course that course of action would not endure him to Sespian. He walked into the cell and let the Captain close and lock the bars behind him.

The guards all relaxed slightly. They looked somewhat surprised that he hadn’t attempted anything. The Guard Captain motioned to one of the crossbow wielders and one of the guards to stay in the room then he and the other two exited. Judging from the noise, he had posted those two men outside the door for additional safety. Not that it would matter. Sicarius estimated that he could kill the two guards with his throwing knives and be out of the cell and gone in under a minute if he wished.

Hmm. The cell hadn’t changed much since he’d last seen it. Still bare stone walls and floor. A padded bench built into the wall which could be used to sleep on. Additions were a chair and a small table which appeared to be bolted to the floor. Sicarius moved to the bench and sat with his back against the wall apparently relaxed. He wasn’t. The guard with the crossbow was still a bit jumpy. Sicarius needed to be able to move if the guard took it into his head to shoot off a couple of bolts in his direction.

As he settled in to wait he could feel the emotions he’d locked down at Amaranthe’s death struggling to get loose. Pain, loss, fear, rage they all roiled around trying to find an outlet. Now that he’d finished his initial task of hunting down the hit squad and their direct employer he’d have to address those emotions if he was going to function at anywhere near usual efficiency.

To distract himself he started to mentally analyze over Sespian’s behavior. He hadn’t seen Sespian for some months. Amaranthe had been the primary go-between between the Emperor and the team since the Forge incident. Despite all they went through together Sespian was still nervous in his presence and Amaranthe had told him that the best thing would be to increase the amount of contact gradually.

In the meantime it appeared that his son was developing a serious _Emperor_ persona. He had decent control over his face and body language in the audience chamber and a command voice that would, in time, rival that of his predecessor Raumesys. Still, there were bits and pieces that didn’t quite fit. He’d had knowledge of Sicarius’ actions. Not surprising given the imperial intelligence service and the information he’d given Mancrest. Not one of the guards in the audience chamber had fired before Sespian had given the order to hold. That was most likely due to specific orders. Standing order or a special set just for this occasion, Sicarius wondered. Then there was the order to this room and the escort. Sespian clearly was sending a political message with that. The guards hadn’t searched him. In fact they were acting as if they’d been ordered not to touch him. That was a major security risk. Sicarius wouldn’t have stood for it if he’d been in the Guard Captain’s place.

Having gone as far as he could without additional information Sicarius changed his focus to a set of exercises derived from the mental sciences. The exercises required a large amount of concentration. Even more concentration was required when one was also attempting to be completely aware of the surroundings at the same time. It would serve to keep him awake and alert with the side benefit of allowing him to control any excess emotion.

The room was quiet except for the slight shifting of the two guards. Silently a tan colored cat with a darker mask and paws poked its head out from under the office desk. Due to his mental concentration Sicarius was the first to notice its presence. As he covertly watched, the cat emerged completely from under the desk and sauntered causally and silently into the middle of the room.

“Where did that cat come from?” The younger of the two guards started and stared at the cat looking as if he thought the cat had appeared out of thin air rather than from under the desk.

“Ancestors only know,” replied the other. “It’s the Emperor’s cat and he goes where he wants. Shows up all over the third floor. Whatever you do don’t try and pick him up.”

“Why?”

“He scratches and bites anyone but the Emperor.”

The cat, having been properly acknowledged, commenced exploring the room and eventually wandered into the cell where Sicarius sat on the bench. It sniffed his boot. “Prow?” the cat vocalized as if asking a question. Sicarius looked directly at the cat to determine if the vocalization had been a request then bent and scooped it up placing it in his lap. Much to the guard’s surprise the cat didn’t resist. It merely circled a few times, kneaded Sicarius’ leg for a bit then settled down purring. Sicarius gave it a scratch behind the ears and went back to his mental exercises. The older guard goggled at him muttering “I don’t believe it.” Both Sicarius and the cat ignored him. Shortly thereafter the cat went to sleep in Sicarius’ lap.

Over an hour later the door to the main room opened and Sespian strode in trailed by the Guard Captain. He’d changed out of the formal clothes he’d been wearing for the audience and looked quite a bit younger. Sicarius stood up, carefully moving the still sleeping cat from his lap to the bench. Sespian looked at him and remarked “I see Trog has decided that you are an appropriate cat pillow. You should be honored. He won’t sleep on just anyone.” As the Emperor spoke the Guard Captain signaled his men and they trooped out the door, presumably to join their fellows on watch in the hall. The Guard Captain looked at Sespian who nodded. The Guard Captain, a disapproving look on his face, walked over and unlocked the cell door pulling it open in the process. He then, at a hand gesture from Sespian, exited the room.

As the hall door closed Sespian grinned at Sicarius. He suddenly looked like a teenager about to pull off some mischievous prank. “Come on” he said to Sicarius as he moved to the wall and pressed in a particular stone. A portion of the wall slid aside revealing a passageway. In one direction a set of stairs led down and in the other the passageway continued. Sespian moved into the passageway, glancing back to see if Sicarius was following.

The passageway was one of several secret and quasi-secret ways in the Imperial Barracks. This one judging from its location and direction, Sicarius thought as they entered the tight passage, would start in the Dungeon, might have another exit in Hollowcrest’s old office and would terminate in... “The Blue Suite” Sespian casually remarked as he pressed another stone, creating an opening into a sitting room done in a variety of shades of blue. Sicarius mused that the Blue Suite was another of those multi-functional rooms in the Barracks. It was primarily guest quarters but it could be secured to be used for holding detainees in comfort or to house persons whose identity needed to remain confidential.

Sespian didn’t pause. He moved on to one of the bedroom doors, tapped lightly and opened it. Sicarius continued to follow into the dimly lit room. As they entered Books hurriedly jumped to his feet holding a book in his hands. He looked as if he was about to say something to Sespian when he spotted Sicarius and froze looking from one to the other. Sicarius quickly surveyed the room and was completely surprised to see Amaranthe asleep in the bed. She was thinner in the face but alive and apparently in one piece. Shocked, he took a half step toward the bed before turning to Books and staring at him. Books glanced at Sespian who merely said “tell him” softly.


	5. Explanations

Amaranthe work up to the sound of Sespian’s voice softly ordering “Tell him.” She opened her eyes just enough to see Sicarius staring at Books with Sespian looking on somewhat behind them. She closed her eyes and listened. Yes Books tell him, she thought, I want to hear this too.

Books closed his mouth then cleared his throat. “Remember Aksyr’s leap that knocked over the last practitioner just after Amaranthe went down?” he asked. There was a pause. Books cleared his throat nervously and continued, “Well, Aksyr wasn’t aiming for the practitioner; he was attempting to catch the end of the practitioner’s spell. He managed to do so and keep at least part of the force from hitting Amaranthe. It partially paralyzed him for a bit but after you took off he recovered enough to tell us what he’d done. He couldn’t dissipate the remaining force so he diverted it.” Books paused again for a moment then said, “Through the rest of us.” The tone of voice he used indicated that the diversion had been far from pleasant.

“The next day Mancrest showed up with a squad of guards and a steam transport,” Books explained. “At that point none of us was any real shape to do much so we accepted the Emperor’s invitation,” Books’ inclined his head toward Sespian. Once again Books’ tone indicated that for some reason he hadn’t much liked the situation. “I must admit,” he continued, apparently directly to Sespian, “that I anticipated that you would hide us somewhere other than the plushest suite in the Imperial Barracks.”

“Humph,” that was Sicarius. “Her condition?” he asked.

“She’s was barely conscious for the first couple of days. Today has been the first time she’s been awake and coherent for more than a few minutes at a time,” said Books.

Coherent? Amaranthe didn’t remember being awake for more than a few minutes total and there was nothing in those memories where she’d tried to say anything. That was a bit disconcerting. What had she said?

“….are you taking over the watch?” asked Books. Due to her musing she’d missed a bit of the conversation. She opened her eyes a slit to peer through her eyelashes. Sicarius nodded. “Good,” said Books, “I haven’t had near enough sleep this week.” He grabbed his book from the side table, bowed slightly to the Emperor and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Amaranthe, still peeking through her eyelashes and pretending to be asleep, saw Sicarius turn to look at Sespian. He looked like he might say something but Sespian beat him to it.

“Did you mean it with the dagger?” he asked Sicarius. “You didn’t use the proper forms.”

“The proper forms would have resulted in being shot, despite your orders,” Sicarius replied.

“The situation is different than what you thought at the time,” Sespian noted quietly, “I can ignore it if you wish.”

Sicarius paused for a moment apparently considering then said “No.”

Sespian nodded. Sespian suddenly looked a lot older and more authoritative, Amaranthe couldn’t tell quite how he did it. He then pulled a sheathed dagger from somewhere. He unsheathed it and Amaranth recognized the black dagger. Sespian slowly and deliberately extended it to Sicarius hilt first and said formally “Here is your weapon. Use it in our defense and the defense of Turgonia.”

It was the completion of the ritual that officially raised a commoner to the nobility, or bound an army officer into to the Emperor’s service. Amaranthe was stunned and held her breath until Sicarius reached out and took the hilt of the dagger. But Sicarius didn’t stop there. He took the dagger and used it to slice his other hand drawing blood and said “By my blood on this dagger I will,” completing the ancient form of the ritual

They stood there, the assassin and the Emperor, and looked at each other for a long moment. Sespian then handed a roll of bandage that had been sitting on the side table to Sicarius. “Trust you to use that version of the ritual,” he commented.

Sicarius merely took the bandage and started winding the bandage around his cut hand.

And that roll of bandage just happened to be sitting there? Amaranthe thought. No Sespian, you were expecting it and planned accordingly.

“Orders?” Sicarius asked continuing to bandage his hand.

Sespian smiled, “Think you can keep her,” Amaranthe closed her eyes completely just in case either of them glanced her way, “out of trouble for a few days?”

“Probably.”

“A week or two?”

“Unlikely.”

That got a low chuckle from Sespian followed by “I’ll get back to you when I have anything further.” Amaranthe didn’t hear Sicarius reply. He’d probably made one of his slight head nods in acknowledgement. There was the sound of movement and then the door closing softly. Sespian had left.

Amaranthe didn’t hear Sicarius move but a little later she felt his weight settle on the bed as he sat next to her. Barely daring to breathe, she waited, eyes closed. His now bandaged hand gently touched her face and Sicarius said “You can stop pretending to be asleep now.”


	6. More Explanations

Sespian turned and left the main bedroom of the Blue Suite closing the door softly behind him. Sicarius watched him go. The sudden release of the emotions he’d been actively suppressing over the last few days left him feeling emotionally and to some extent physically dizzy. Rage, guilt, regret, all left him in a rush. They were replaced with feelings of relief that Amaranthe was still alive, gratitude toward Akstyr for managing to save her and pride at Sespian’s clever handling of the situation. Breathe. Let it go. The rush of emotions was a natural reaction to the current events. Center. Find equilibrium and hold it. Relaxing his guard at this point, now that things seemed safe would be a mistake. The Nurian’s had not acted alone. There were indications that they had some influential silent backers. Ancestors only knew how influential and how highly placed. He would need to remain alert even here in the midst of the imperial barracks.

The emotional storm subsided in a handful of heartbeats, Sicarius turned back to look at Amaranthe lying in the bed. She looked thinner and frailer with dark circles underneath her eyes. Her face had the pinched look of someone in pain. She was breathing easily, regularly, feigning sleep. He moved silently to the side of the bed then carefully sat so as to avoid jarring her. Unable to stop himself he reached out with this bandaged hand to gently touch her face in what he knew was a vain attempt to smooth those pain lines away.

“You can stop pretending to be asleep now,” he said softly.

Amaranthe’s eyes popped open and she looked at him. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “How?” she asked.

“Sleepers don’t usually hold their breath.”

She snorted but didn’t comment further apparently content just to look at him. That’s not good, he thought. Anything that stopped Amaranthe from burbling, especially at him, was serious. He took another close look attempting to further evaluate her condition.

He didn’t think any of his concern was showing in his face or body language but something made the small smile reappear. She then slowly snaked a hand out from under the bedclothes in an attempt to capture his bandaged hand as it cupped her cheek. Amused he let her. Amaranthe’s eyebrows went up when she realized that he had let her catch his hand. Surprised she turned her head and looked their now clasped hands. She then looked back at him and with a glance at the bandage asked “Why?”

“A matter of trust,” he replied.

She stared at him again for a long moment, her eyes asking him to explain. 

Hmmph. She’d most likely keep looking at him like that if he didn’t give her something more. Not to mention the pain lines on her face seemed to be getting more pronounced as he watched. “It clarifies the chain of command for Sespian,” he responded. “He’s always had a good idea of what I am and what I am capable of. Now he knows exactly where and how long the leash is,” he added.

Amaranthe started involuntarily and winced. 

Ah, she hadn’t spotted him the day several weeks ago when she’d admitted to Books that having him under her command was like having a tiger on a leash. 

“What…,” she started and then trailed off. 

She was definitely looking more tired and the pained look was more pronounced now. 

He stood. She tried to keep ahold of his hand but he gently detached her. A flash of disappointment and pain went across her face but she didn’t try and recapture his hand even though it was obvious to him that she wanted to. Interesting, he mused, he’d never had anyone take comfort from his physical touch. Suddenly he decided what to do. A quick glance around the room gave him all the information he needed to calculate angles, sight lines and determine his optimum placement. He then stalked around to the other side of the bed and carefully arranged himself to sit on the bed with his back against the headboard. 

Amaranthe watched him the whole way with wide eyes. It was very clear that he’d completely confused her. He stuck the black dagger into the headboard where he could get to it quickly and then held out his bandaged hand to her. She rolled onto her side and put her hand in his again. With a little sigh, she closed her eyes and was soon asleep.


	7. A Week Feeling Weak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the start of the 2nd story as previously published.

Amaranthe was sick and tired of being sick and tired. It had been less than a week since she’d first awoken in the Blue Suite and she was tired of looking at the same four walls of the bedroom. She was improving but she still was easily fatigued, extremely weak and occasionally in pain. To make matters worse the team was treating her as if she was made of high quality crystal, fragile and expensive. One or the other of them seemed to be with her at all times. In fact it seemed to be a concerted effort on the part of the whole team to not leave her alone for more than a few minutes. Even Emperor Sespian appeared to be in on it.

She had to admit that they were at least attempting to keep her occupied and amused when she was awake. Bassilard had taught her a card game from his homeland that used a board and pegs to keep track of the score. Maldynado told her funny stories about his relatives and scandalous things that he’d picked up while working as an escort. Sespian, when he dropped in for a minute or two, would relate the antics of his cat Trog who seemed to terrify all of the servants and most of his personal guard. Akstyr talked about what he was learning about the mental sciences from some research materials Sespian had located for him. Books read to her. He had found an amusing piece of fiction in the barracks library about a troll and a fairy who were enforcers in a big city investigating the murder of a tattooed woman. What a piece of fiction like that had been doing in the imperial barracks library neither Books nor Sespian could figure out. Sicarius had opined that it had been used for sending coded messages using numbers to indicate specific words in the book. The message would clearly appear to be a code but it would be well-nigh unbreakable if you didn’t know which book was being used.

Thinking of Sicarius, Amaranth mused that he was the only member of the team that didn’t seem to be attempting to keep her amused. He had, as far as she could tell, appointed himself her chief care giver. He seemed to be the one most often that brought her meals. He insisted that she drink more liquids and then dealt with the inevitable results by carrying her to the bathroom more times than she wanted to think about. He insisted that she perform various stretching exercises while in bed to keep up muscle tone he said. He also always seemed to be there when the pain hit. Simply sitting beside her and touching her lightly until it subsided. More often than not, he’d be sitting on the bed with his back propped against the headboard, eyes closed when she awoke in the night. Once she had woken up with her head pillowed on his lap. She only wished she’d been a bit less fatigued so that she could properly appreciate and potentially act on it.

Oddly, he was also the only one of the team who would allow her to attempt to do anything for herself. It was somewhat strange. He seemed to allow her to do only so much before he would assist. The next time he’d allow her to do a little bit more before he intervened. It was almost as if he was applying some of his training principles to her recovery. 

Right now she felt quite a bit better. Akstyr had run across some new healing technique in his studies and had tried it on her. A good thing Sicarius wasn’t in the room, she thought. While he had an appreciation of the mental sciences he was not at all trusting of Akstyr’s lack of formal training. He probably would have objected to the experiment or at least put Akstyr through an intensive round of questioning before allowing him to proceed. Akstyr was very pleased that his experiment had worked. He was now going on in exhaustive detail about the insight that had allowed him to come up with the healing spell he had tried. He was getting quite garrulous when he talked about the mental sciences. While this was a major improvement in his communication style, she found that she only understood about one word in three of his explanation. He was getting worse than Books when he went into “lecture mode”. 

Akstyr’s explanation finally wound down and he seemed to expect some response so she smiled and nodded. He blushed, apparently just realizing that he’d been talking non-stop at her for a good 10 minutes about a subject she didn’t understand. Amaranthe watched as he looked around for something to quickly change the subject. He spotted the juice pitcher and after looking inside it said “This is almost empty, you want me to go get some more?”

To give him a chance to recover some composure, young men were so awkward sometimes; she replied “Yes please.”

Akstyr picked up the pitcher and escaped from the bedroom leaving the door ajar.

Alone for the first time in what seemed days Amaranthe considered her options. Akstyr’s healing trick had helped so much that she was suddenly aware of a whole host of issues that hadn’t been worth worrying about when she felt so weak. For one thing, her skin and hair felt horribly grimy. Hmm. From her trips to the bathroom she knew that it contained, among other things, a huge bath tub. A bath, she thought, would feel really good about now. She actually felt strong enough to be able to get across the room and into the bathroom by herself. Once there it would be a simple matter to wait for the bath to fill and get in. Deliberately, before Akstyr or one of the others could come in and stop her, Amaranth got out of the bed and carefully tottered across the floor on wobbly legs. She made it to the bathroom uneventfully and slipped inside.


	8. Of Privacy and Bathtubs

Sicarius came back into the bedroom with the juice pitcher closing the door behind him. He’d met Akstyr coming out and decided to take over the task of obtaining a refill. The click of the bathroom door closing as he entered told him that Amaranthe had managed to get across the room without assistance. Good, Akstyr’s new healing technique had resulted in a marked improvement. He put the pitcher on the table and stalked over toward the bathroom door. 

He knew that Amaranthe was chafing against the constraints that he had ordered the rest of the team to put on her. Unfortunately it was necessary. Akstyr and Books had managed, with the help of Sespian’s library and the imperial intelligence files, to figure out exactly what the practitioner had used on her. It was a nasty variant on a high powered healing technique that disrupted sensation. The benign version was used for simple pain blocking. In the variant form it caused damage to the senses. In some versions it acted as if the victim had been hit by lightning. Once they knew what had been used generally, it was clear the Amaranthe’s bouts of pain were the result of sensation returning where it had been damaged. Practically, what it meant was that she’d be somewhat clumsy, potentially dizzy, and fatigued as her body attempted to repair the injury. It simply wasn’t safe to let her push herself the way someone recovering from a normal illness would be able to. It would be all too easy for her to end up with permanent problems. There was no way, Sicarius thought, that he was going to allow that.

Sicarius leaned casually against the wall near the bathroom door. As he leaned on the wall he heard water running. Remembering that the bathroom had a tub, complete with its own water supply, he determined that Amaranthe had decided to bathe. That might be a bit risky, he thought to himself. However, barging in on her might not be the best idea. She’d most likely get embarrassed. The forced intimacy of his caretaking might not be welcome now that she was feeling better. He decided to stay put.

The sound of the water ceased. The bath must be full he thought. He listened to soft sounds of movement behind the door and imagined Amaranthe getting into the bath. That was a mistake. His imagination didn’t have to do much to conjure that image. After all his peripheral vision was quite good and he’d managed to get a good look at her on a variety of occasions. His body stirred at the image. Breathe. They were in the imperial barracks. Sespian. No, Sespian had made it clear that he was out of the picture. She was still sick. Someone else would be better for her in the long run. Rats. His body wasn’t cooperating and now his mind was running around in circles like a headless chicken. Why was it that she had that effect on him more often than not these days? Of course these thoughts were not doing any good for allowing him to get his body under control. Calm down. Breathe. 

A squawk and a thump followed by a splash from behind the bathroom door interrupted his attempt to get himself under control. Without a moment’s hesitation he charged full tilt into the bathroom.


	9. A Rescue

Ahh. Nothing like a nice hot bath Amaranthe thought to herself as she waited for the water to fill up.

Turning off the water Amaranthe realized that getting into the bath was not going to be as easy a proposition as she had thought it would be. The tub sides were high and it was large enough for two people to sit in comfortably. In the last few minutes she had discovered that she became somewhat dizzy when she moved too fast and her legs felt like she was walking around with lead attached to her ankles. Akstyr’s healing had done wonders but she wasn’t completely back to normal yet. She needed a plan.

After thinking a bit, Amaranthe decided that the best way, given her current condition, would be to sit on the edge and lift one leg over the tub side then the other and finally lower herself in. It probably would have worked if the tub hadn’t been so big, or the sides so high. She managed to get one leg in without incident. However, in the process of getting the other leg over she caught it on the lip of the tub. Her other leg slipped at the same time and she started to tip over when the dizziness hit. Quickly she made a grab with one hand at the other side of the tub but her hand missed causing her to overbalance further. She let out a small squeak as she went down hitting her head and shoulder on the far side of the tub as she splashed into the hot water.

Mere moments after she went under she felt hands grab her. They lifted her bodily out of the tub and she found herself held tightly to a rock hard chest. She was not surprised to discover that Sicarius had fished her out of the bath. She was a little surprised that he put her feet on the floor and allowed her to stand all the while holding her closely. The next thing she noticed was that she could feel his heartbeat. It was racing as he held her. Strange, was her fleeting thought, he wasn’t breathing as if he’d been running. He kept one arm around her as he put his hand to her chin. He gently turned her face up so he could look at it. A slight frown crossed his face as he looked at her. The spot where she had hit the side of the tub must be starting to bruise.

Embarrassed about slipping and having to be rescued, she felt her face get hot. Damn, she was blushing. To make matters worse, she was nude and dripping water all over him and the floor. On the other hand, he didn’t seem to mind as he was still holding her close.

“Sorry, I didn’t expect that. I mean it should have been simple. I had it all figured out. I didn’t think…I didn’t need…I would have been able to…” she stuttered then took a breath.

Despite the embarrassment she had a sudden rush of desire that made her feel even weaker in the knees that she already was. She sagged slightly against him, running out of words for a moment.

Sicarius gave her a look but he didn’t let go of her. He was still holding her tightly against his chest in a rather intimate embrace. She could still feel his heartbeat and, dear ancestors, was that iron self-control of his slipping? Now how to get what she wanted without spooking him. Another plan suddenly occurred to Amaranthe and she decided to _test the waters_ so to speak. She stifled a giggle at the bad pun.

“I know that look” she said giving him one of her best smiles. “It’s the one you give me when you have to save me from a plan that doesn’t quite work.” She continued on, “So, how do you propose to save me from the continued dangers of that bathtub? I am going to get back in you know.” She squiggled a little against him and worked her arms free from his embrace so she could hug him back.

He looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “Offer a proposition,” he replied with a bit of humor in his tone.

She could tell that he was amused by the situation and was waiting to see where she’d take it. The control was still there, she thought, even if it was fraying. What more could she do to challenge it even further? She slowly moved her arms up until they were wrapped around his neck and moved her face closer to his. “Why don’t you come in with me?” she asked softly.

He went very still for a moment considering. She waited for his decision, hoping that she hadn’t pushed things too far, too fast. She shouldn’t have worried. He didn’t say anything but his arms tightened around her and he brought his lips to hers. It was a different sort of kiss than the one they’d shared in the imperial gardens. It was gentler, careful; almost as if he was afraid he’d break her. To heck with this, she thought, and kissed him back fiercely. He responded turning the kiss into that emotional, toe curling sensual experience she had been craving ever since he’d done it the first time.

A bit later when they paused for a moment he said “Acceptable.”


	10. Bathtub Musings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter which gives this piece its rating. If you don't want to go there just skip it.

Amaranthe relaxed against Sicarius’ chest and savored the comfort. Somehow he was managing to be both relaxed and alert and ready for action at the same time. She didn’t understand how he managed to do it. She was tired. Not the bone deep exhaustion that had plagued her since she’d awoken in the Imperial Barracks earlier in the week but a satiated tired. The water was cooling slowly and she knew they’d have to get out and face the rest of the world eventually. Right now, however, she was content to lounge in the tub and reflect on the events of the last hour or so.

***

Sicarius had barged into the bathroom almost immediately after she slipped while getting into the tub. She hadn’t even known that he’d been in the bedroom of the Blue Suite before he had responded to the thump and splash she made as she fell. He fished her out of the tub with no more effort than one might use to save a drowning kitten. Once she had been clear of the tub he held her naked and dripping against his chest. 

“Sorry, I didn’t expect that. I mean it should have been simple. I had it all figured out. I didn’t think…I didn’t need…I would have been able to…” she burbled inanely at him. As usual, her mouth was starting to make explanations before her brain fully engaged. She shut up then, running out of words. Oh well, she should enjoy the fact that he was holding her close regardless of how she got into that position.

As she relaxed into his embrace she realized that he wasn’t as controlled as she had thought. Not only was his heart rate elevated but she could also feel a distinct bulge betraying his interest. Well that was a promising development. Especially since she was feeling desire so strong it made her weak at the knees. A couple of trite quips came to her mind, most notably Is that a knife or are you just happy to rescue me? Luckily she’d managed to not blurt anything that banal out at him.

She’d decided instead to go with something a bit more direct. “I know that look. It’s the one you give me when you have to save me from a plan that doesn’t quite work. So, how do you propose to save me from the continued dangers of the bathtub? I am going to get back in you know,” she said while working her arms free from his embrace so she could hug him.

His response had been his normal, flat delivery “Offer a proposition” but he tempered it with a slightly raised eyebrow. 

Hmm. That usually signaled amusement. He was waiting to see where she’d take the situation. The control was still there, she thought, even if it was fraying. What more could she do to challenge it even further? She slowly moved her arms up until they were wrapped around his neck and moved her face closer to his. “Why don’t you come in with me?” she asked softly. 

He went very still for a moment considering. Then his arms tightened around her and he brought his lips to hers. It was a gentler kiss than the one they had shared in the imperial gardens. A careful kiss; almost as if he was afraid he’d break her. To heck with this, she thought, and kissed him back fiercely. He responded turning the kiss into that emotional, toe curling sensual experience she had been craving ever since he’d done it the first time.

A bit later when they paused for a moment he said “Acceptable.”

Yes! Amaranthe thought triumphantly. Now she had to part him from his clothes and, of course, the knife collection. 

As if he’d heard her thought Sicarius moved one hand down to his belt. The other hand had moved sometime in the midst of that kiss from the middle of her back down to cup her ass. He drew the black dagger from its sheath. She felt the muscles in his chest and abdomen flex as, in one smooth motion, he flipped the dagger at the bathroom door. Surprised she looked to see the dagger half imbedded in the door with the other half in the frame. It was her turn to raise an eyebrow at him.

“No lock” was his reply to her silent question, as he unbuckled his weapons belt and laid it on a stand within easy reach of the tub.

She took that as permission to continue and proceeded to divest him of his shirt only to find that he was wearing a forearm sheath with another couple throwing daggers. “I feel like I’m raiding the imperial armory” Amaranthe muttered as she struggled to unlatch it. 

“Not quite.” His statement held a definite hint of a chuckle. 

He used his free hand to locate and place knives on that little stand which was now acquiring a growing pile of weapons. His other hand was roaming around the small of her back sending chills of pleasure up her spine and keeping her pressed close to him. 

She ran her hands up his now bare chest. He shuddered slightly. Was he ticklish she thought abstractedly as she continued up to wrap her arms around his neck once again. She pulled his head down to hers for another kiss. Nope, not ticklish she realized as the kiss elicited another one of the slight shudders. 

Her heart was pounding in her ears. She wanted the kiss to go on forever. But no, both of them had to breathe. She was gasping. He, she was pleased to note, was also breathing harder than normal. Breathing hard was not slowing his actions in the least. He continued to stroke her skin while kissing her jaw and then down the side of her neck. Amaranth thought she was going to melt with pleasure. 

As Sicarius nuzzled her neck she took the opportunity he presented and nibbled on his earlobe. A sharp intake of breath told her that she’d surprised him. Then it was her turn to gasp as he moved down to tease and lick her nipples. She lost track of time as the sensations became intense. It all became a blur of kisses, nibbles, caresses both given and received. 

A little later she was surprised to discover that somehow in the midst of all that Sicarius had managed to remove his boots as well as his pants. She also vaguely noted that the tips of her toes were just barely touching the floor. He was supporting most of her weight while leaning against the cabinet that held the wash basin. Trusting him to support her, she hooked one leg and then the other around his waist. She felt his muscles bunch and flex as he reversed their position so that her rear was resting on the edge of the cabinet. He paused then still supporting most of her weight.

“Amaranthe?” he said, his voice rough and barely more than a whisper.

She stared at him. For the first time since she’d met him she could clearly read his expression and not have to rely on the very subtle clues he normally gave. He was asking a question. He was asking if she wanted to continue. This was the point of no return and he was giving her the choice. In that instant she knew that if she said no he’d back off and reassert that iron self-control. 

Amaranthe smiled and simply said “Yes.”

He entered her then. She was more than ready for him. They moved together in the world’s oldest dance until she shuddered with pleasure whispering his name. He kept moving and Amaranthe discovered the pleasure building again. His muscles tensed and she felt rather than heard him make a noise somewhere between a growl and a groan just as everything dissolved into shards of sensation.

Full consciousness returned with a jolt. Amaranthe was slightly confused. She was still locked in Sicarius’ arms entwined with him. Had she passed out? If so it hadn’t been for very long. She looked at his face to see if he had noticed her faux pas. His expression was still readable. In fact he had a small smile that seemed to be mostly satisfaction with a hint of amusement. Oh, he’d noticed she realized and blushed. 

“Shhhh” he said as he gathered her closer before she could say anything. Once again she felt rather than heard him make a noise something akin to a chuckle. “A physiological reaction to extreme sensation.” He sounded pleased she noted. 

She opened her mouth to say something but he forestalled her comment by kissing her. It was another gentle kiss. More of a promise of future pleasure than pleasure itself. 

When the kiss broke off he again spoke first. “Bath?” He asked.

“Bath,” she agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, with apologies to the Bard:
> 
> If this writer has offended,  
> Think but this and all is mended.  
> That you have but tarried here,  
> While each chapter did appear,  
> And these words upon this theme,  
> Are of no import, only my dream.
> 
> It has been an honor to share my dream with you.
> 
> K2N2


End file.
